


Lusty Golden Brew

by anathemagerminabunt



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anathemagerminabunt/pseuds/anathemagerminabunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot, Hardison, and Parker spend some time in the brew pub after hours. Pretty much PWP with a bit of discussion about beer names.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lusty Golden Brew

**Author's Note:**

> _You foam within our glasses, you lusty golden brew_  
>  Whoever imbibes takes fire from you

“See? That,” Eliot announces, a smug look on his face as the empty pint glasses are slammed onto the bar, “ _that_ is how you brew a beer.”

Hardison crosses his arms and averts his gaze. “It ain't bad.”

“I liked it.” Parker licks her lips, cocking her head thoughtfully. “It's flavorful. Hearty. Very robust. Can we call it 'thief juice'?”

Eliot scowls. “For the last time, Parker, we are never calling a beer 'thief juice'.” Across from him, Hardison hums his approval and nods as he continues, “It sounds... it just sounds wrong.”

Parker narrows her eyes, quickly glancing between the two of them. “Wrong? How can something _so right_ sound wrong? Yeah, we should definitely name it 'thief juice'.”

“Woman, it sounds like spunk!” Hardison erupts, slapping a hand against the polished wood of the bar. Immediately sheepish, he mutters, “I will be dead and buried before I ever allow you to give a beer in _my_ pub a spunk name.”

With a frown, Parker repeats, “Spunk?”

“Spunk,” Hardison agrees.

“Stop saying 'spunk'!” Eliot makes a face, snatching the two empty glasses up and bringing them over to the small bar sink. “But, yeah, he's right. I mean 'thief juice'?”

“Hmm.” Parker rises off the bar stool and lifts herself upward, swinging onto the bar before plopping down with her legs crossed. “Okay. I'm game. Let's do it.”

Eliot and Hardison exchange a wary glance. “Do what? What are we doing?”

“'Essence of Hardison and Eliot',” she explains. “Ooo, maybe 'Hardiot'. That sounds fancy enough.” At their blank stares she sighs, deeply put-upon. “It's not fair that I keep the taste of you both all to myself. So we'll brew it, market it, and make millions. Great idea, guys, this is going to be huge.”

A beat. “Um,” Hardison cautiously ventures, “Parker, there's no _way_ \--”

It's an explosion of laughter, really, an eruption of giggles that Parker doesn't even bother to control. “Got you! Oh, man, you should see your faces!” She snorts. “Like I'd ever let anyone else share that.”

The guys visibly relax, exhaling gratefully.

“Evil,” Hardison breathes. “Pure evil.”

“See if we ever let you near our 'essences' again,” Eliot adds, turning on the sink and quickly washing the glasses before setting them in the rack to dry. “Unadulterated evil.”

“But we're the bad guys!”

“Even bad guys have their limits, Parker.” Hardison shoots Eliot a sly look. “Yeah, nope. No 'Hardiot' for you for awhile.”

“But--!” Parker protests, hopping off the bar. “You can't do that!”

“Can and just did. Think you need to learn that joking about sharing us with the public at large isn't funny. I don't think you cherish us quite enough if that's the case.” Drying his hands, Eliot nods to himself. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Pouting, Parker mutters, “You're bluffing. Neither of you would do that.”

“No?” Eliot cocks an eyebrow. “Hmm. All right; Hardison, take off your pants. If you do it in the next two seconds, I'll let you top.”

Hardison immediately springs into action, scrambling off his stool and bringing his hands to his belt. Within the allotted seconds, his jeans are in a puddle on the floor, boxers halfway around his thighs. He grins and glances over his shoulder. “Pub door is locked?”

“Locked it myself,” Eliot confirms, dropping his towel and making his way around the bar to join them. It isn't the first time that they've considered sex in the pub after-hours. So long as they avoid the tabletops and anything that touches the food or drinks, Eliot's usually game for some kinky, semi-public sex. After the first two or three times, he even stopped protesting and no longer had to be wheedled into it.

Parker huffs. “This isn't fair. You can't _punish_ me for a joke. I'm supposed to make jokes, Sophie says that it humanizes me.”

“Babe, if I've got my pants down and my dick in my hands, mentioning Sophie won't help your case.” Hardison leans back against the bar, lazily stroking himself to hardness as Eliot begins to strip.

“Fine,” Parker decides after a moment. “Fine. But if I can't touch you, then you two can't touch me.” With a smirk, she kicks off her shoes and quickly rips her top off-- as usual, she's not wearing a bra, and she's pleased to note the way both of them lose themselves in the sight of her bare breasts. It's quick work to strip off her pants and panties and drop them onto the floor. Hands on her hips, she deliberately poses, letting her boys take a good long look at what they are being denied.

Eliot clears his throat after a moment, blinking. “Fine. That's fine. It's not as though we won't do well enough on our own.” Slowly rubbing a palm over the bulge forming in his pants, he prods, “Isn't that right, Hardison?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Hell yeah.” Hardison gives himself one last stroke. “Now hurry up, man. You said I could top. Hey, you got any lube in those pockets of yours?”

“Do I have any-- sure, let me just check my secret lube pocket and see.” Eliot glares. “No, I don't have any lube in my pockets!”

Parker beams. “Too bad, then, looks like you two can't--”

“You can fuck my thighs,” Eliot interrupts, methodically unzipping his pants and dragging them down over his half-hard cock. “God knows you leak like a broken faucet.”

“You love it,” Hardison mutters, flicking the palm of his hand over his slit and spreading precome down along his shaft. Eliot's right, of course-- Hardison does leak an unusual amount, but it's always just made their sex that much more fun, if messy.

Pursing her lips, Parker watches as Eliot removes his boxers and steps free of his clothes, lifting his shirt over head for good measure. He grabs his cock in a firm grip, pulling it a few times before shuffling over to where Hardison is braced against the bar.

“Parker, come here,” Eliot demands, getting into position and leaning over slightly. “I need you to help me balance.”

“Oh, sure, I don't get to play, but when you _need_ me, suddenly--”

“Parker!” Hardison cries. “Listen to the damn man so I can put this excellent hard-on to use!” He strokes himself a few more times, spreading wetness all over his cock as he presses forward against Eliot. The very tip of him rests against Eliot's upper thighs, just below his ass and against his perineum. “Fuck, this--”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm a fucking sex god. Parker. _Please._ ”

She sighs, stepping forward and facing Eliot. He lifts his arms, resting them on her shoulders, and leans over slightly, just far enough to jut his ass back.

“Good, yeah, that--” With a soft groan, Hardison pushes forward, shoving his cock between Eliot's thighs with one slow, deep push, until his head is nudging against Eliot's balls. “Oh, man, that-- oh, that's good.”

Eliot grins, squeezing his legs and bringing them closer together. “Fuck, yeah, feels pretty good on my end too. Rubbing just right. Jesus, Hardison, that's it.”

For the next few minutes, Parker merely watches as Hardison slowly pushes in and out of Eliot's legs, dragging the length of him along every inch of skin he can find. He seems to slip back and forth pretty easily, and with a small shift in angle, produces one hell of a gasp from Eliot. Fingers tighten around Parker's shoulders and Eliot's eyes close for a second, his own cock filling even more until he's completely rigid, twitching against his stomach. Parker bites her lip, itching to touch someone, _somewhere_.

“That's it,” Eliot growls, and Hardison speeds up, fucking in earnest now. He grips Eliot by the hips, pulling him back to meet each harsh shove, and he chokes out a cry. “Fuck, Hardison, god. Just like that. Harder, right there, but harder.”

Parker can't stand it anymore. She's always loved watching her boys together, loved watching the give and take, the transfer of pleasure from one to another, and this is no exception. Before she's even aware of what she's doing, her own hand slips down between her legs, pressing into her own wetness and rubbing rhythmically against her clit.

“Stop that,” Hardison exhales. He tosses his head back and lets out a staccato moan just as Eliot tenses around him. “Oh, fuck, that's hot. Fuck, Eliot, you feel so good, you know that? Oooh--”

Eliot swallows audibly, slamming back against Hardison. After a moment or two of just watching Parker work herself, he suddenly brings down a hand a smacks hers away. “Don't. I want...” He trails off, fingers searchingly feeling her slick wetness before shoving two fingers into her with no warning. Parker lets out a sharp cry, snap her back into an arch. “That's it,” he encourages, swiping his thumb over her clit, his fingers pistoning in and out of her in time with Hardison's fucking. For what seems like forever, they continue just as they are, a desperate, needy chain of pleasure and desire. “Yeah, goddamn, that's it, Parker.”

Behind him, Hardison is frenzied, rutting like an animal against the smooth skin of Eliot's thighs, his chest tight and a deep groan tearing from him. “Oh, fuck, good. So good, Eliot, so damn--” He glances down and over Eliot, catching sight of the way the man is savagely working Parker. “Oh _fuck!_ ”

“Damn it, Hardison,” Eliot snaps, breathless and tense. “Get on with it!” He curls his fingers gently, rubbing Parker's inner walls in time with flicks of his thumb over her nerves. Without warning she tenses, crying out loudly and coming around his fingers.

“Oh oh oh _oh!_ ” Parker shudders, eyes shut, expression contorted in ecstasy, riding her orgasm out.

“Oh fuck,” Hardison babbles, harshly jerking his hips. “Oh, fuck, oh Eliot, Parker. Jesus, you look-- feel-- oh fuck. I-I-I--”

Eliot moans. Carefully removing his fingers from Parker, he licks them clean before snapping, “Hardison, if you don't come right fucking now so I can bend Parker over and fuck her within an inch of my life, I'm going to--” He never does get to explain what he's going to do, as at that very moment Hardison lets out a strangled grunt, spasming against Eliot before coming in three long spurts and coating the inside of his thighs.

“Oh, holy fuck,” Hardison pants after a few long moments. Across from him, Parker leans against Eliot, kissing and biting his neck frantically as she works his deeply-red cock quickly. “Holy fuck, that was--”

“Incredible?” Parker supplies. “Mine was incredible. I like Eliot''s fingers, they're so blunt and thick. They feel almost as good as when one of you pushes inside me and rides me like you'll die if you don't get to come.”

Eliot brokenly groans, twitching against them both. “If-- if you two knew how close I was, you'd have some pity and fucking get me off already.”

“Hmm.” Hardison grins. “What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me.” Parker shifts over slightly, allowing Hardison to reach around Eliot and join his hand with hers. Lacing their fingers together, they squeeze and stroke Eliot just the way he likes, teasing the head every so often while occasionally tightening their fists.

“Oh fuck,” Eliot moans after several long minutes. “Almost-- going to--” He comes before he has a chance to finish warning them, spilling over their hands and tensing all over.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, Parker licks her fingers clean. “'Thief juice,” she remarks happily, ignoring the looks this receives.

Eliot snorts and surveys the mess covering his thighs and front. With obvious disgust, he reaches for a stack of cocktail napkins to clean off the worst off it, suggesting, “Shower?”

“I don't know, man, I'm kind of still wobbly.” Hardison grins, rocking onto the balls of his feet. “Think the three of us can fit in the shower in back?”

“I'm damn sure going to find out.” Eliot makes his way toward the back, Hardison close on his heels. With a glance over his shoulder, he calls, “Coming, Parker?”

She makes a contented sound, gathering their clothes in her arms before hurrying after her. “I knew you were bluffing.” As they walk though the door, she adds, “Okay, if not 'thief juice', what about 'Hermes' Ambrosia'?”

“No,” they quickly reply, the door slamming shut behind them.


End file.
